Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Countdown commenced. Issues such as needing more coffee put the launch on hold once, twice. Finally, the writing day sluggishly took off. He wanted to be done but he wanted this to be good. Work remained before the novel in progress could be considered done or good.
It felt like it was going to a be a long, tedious writing day.
Tuesday’s note has been plucked, time for us to get up and f —
Yes, it’s Tuesday, January 17, 2023, for those scoring at home. Sunrise here was a minute later and the setting part will be a minute or two later. Slow change is taking place. It’s not really change, of course, except if you look at it with a very narrow aperture. That’s how I view many things taking place in the world today. They’re not really changes, they’re shift back to what they were, following an old orbit of thought. But the orbit will keep going and then we’ll again see the orbit’s other side.
Of course, it’s not exactly the same today as it was last year at this time of year. Nor is it the same as ten or a hundred years ago, despite what it seems. Small, but permanent shifts are found by studying the underlying details affecting the planet’s orbit. In the case of Earth’s days, we know its rotation is slowing. We know the average temperature is climbing, oxygen levels are dropping, and we know these temperature and oxygen results are being affected by human activity. We know days will become longer with the slower rotation and hotter with the slowing rotation. We know the sun is slowly cooling. We know our orbit is decaying and days will grow hotter as we edge toward the sun. We know that methane gases and diminishing glaciers will affect these outcomes. And some of us apparently know that the Earth is flat, and we’re kept from knowing the full truth about it by evil forces who don’t want us to know the truth for their own gain.
We also know that today is 3 degrees Celsius at the mo’, but it’ll climb to 48 degrees Fahrenheit here in Ashlandia. Sunshine has kicked into a satisfactory blaze. Actually, we know that the sun blazes along the same way all the time but clouds, axis tilts, weather pressure, and the Earth’s orbit defines our daily experience. We chose to express it along traditional lines that keep us at the center.
Conversing with Mom remains concerning. She prefers texting over talking on the phone. Her responses are about her many medical problems — heart, lungs, back, eyes, teeth, digestion, balance — upcoming appointments, and what is hurting where and what’s been tried and failed. Tres depressing to continue witnessing her decline and her fight against it. She wants to be there for her grandchildren, but her quality of life continues sliding down a hill, and it’s getting steeper.
After reading of more political contentions, more shootings and deaths, more murders and protests, The Neurons dialed up Elvis Costello and the Attractions’ 1978 cover of “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love And Understanding” in the morning mental music stream. I enjoy his vocal style for this, but the song also display a pop sound from an earlier era. It’s upbeat tempo is a pleasant salve for rising depression and frustration.
Hope you have a grand day and you make it your way, and I’m not talking about McDonald’s, either. Stay positive. Yes, I dropped the negative test aspect of my daily encouragement to me and you. You’ll probably test negative one of these days but if you the right luck and medical assistance, there’s a hopeful chance you’ll emerged with your health intact.
Okay, I need coffee. Here’s Elvis and the band. Cheers
My writing moment came yesterday afternoon. I awoke in a grumpy mood yesterday morning and was in full curmudgeon mode before my first cup of coffee.
Some of it could be put on my reaction to some of my wife’s comments. I was feeling sour about my novel in progress. First draft was finished and now I’m reconciliating, slicing, and dicing. It mostly went well, but sometimes a section was encountered that forced a gag reflex.
My SO was preparing for her book club meeting. She always takes that as seriously as doing a doctoral thesis or presenting a business plan, devoting time, thought and energy to the exclusion of many other things. Extra effort was going on this time because she was the moderator. She owned responsibility for driving the discussion.
The book was A Friend by Sigrid Nunez. Each month, one member selects a book for the others’ reading and discussion. My wife suggested this book to another book club member. She’d read reviews, and after reading it for book club (twice, because she was the moderator), she raved about the book, author, and the author’s glittering literary career. Nunez is serious about writing (yeah, like most writers are not, right?) and has an impressive career.
My wife raving about Nunez’s success settled poorly on my wounded writer psyche. I’m not usually like that. I generally am just as enthusiastic as her about these things, or even more bullish on writers and their works and rewards. But circumstances threw dark shade on my own writing efforts, and her comments dropped me into a place where there’s little light.
That happened in the morning. Vowing to myself to do better and get through this, I went off to the coffee shop to slog through writing requirements. I knew there was a problem with the section I was editing, but didn’t know what it was. Then, pop, pop, pop, three epiphanies about the what-and-why arrived. Those epiphanies energized my writing and pulled my spirit from the gutter and set it on top of the world.
I’ve through those moods and endured that kind of writing low before. Nothing new. Nor is it something that other writers haven’t experienced. Happy I’m out of it.
Time to write — and edit — a little bit more, at least one more time. Cheers
Someone asked him, “How are you doing?” “Good,” he answered with enthusiasm.
He didn’t know if his answer was true. He didn’t know how he felt. He thought how he ‘felt’ was a complicated question, and the truth about the answer slid along its own spectrum, shifting by the second, the minute, the day.
‘Good’ was probably a safe if reductive average.
His top ten lists are flexible. Whether it’s books, songs, musical groups, or places, mood and season seem to cause fluctuation. About his only constants is that blueberries keep eking out a win over watermelon as the top front and coffee just beats water as his favorite drink. For the record, beer is consistently third on that list, followed by red wine. Also for the record, water remains at the top of the most needed drink.
Time and I seem to be wrestling. I suspect it’s winning.
It’s Tuesday, September 13, 2022. As I typed that date, I wanted to type ‘January’. What devilry are The Neurons doing now? I suspect it’s all a bit of theater, being back at the home base, where I grew up, observing changes and stasis, dancing around the edges of family dysfunction, staying out of the whirlpool.
It’s 18 C outside in Pittsburgh, PA. Stratus clouds slip open. Sunshine slashes in with golden promise. Clouds muttering, “Not today,” hasten over and cover the space in gray. Blue eyes peer through the clouds. It’s what they call variable today, I think. Bracketed by sunrise at 6:59 AM and sunset at 7:33 PM, we expect to cover a high of 69 F.
Meanwhile, back in the head, The Neurons are playing Kings of Leon. “Notion” was released in 2009, probably an auspicious year for some but bland and average for myself, and yet, I crave bland and average today. “Notion” is a rocker with simple and lyrics that feature the line, “You’ve been here before.” Yes, The Neurons say, you’ve been here before in mood and spirit, even if the date is unique. Probably be the only time in history that we’ll experience September 13, 2022, that we know. Perhaps the issue that I’ve already been through this day and feel through the obfuscation layered on by reality what’s gonna happen. Or maybe I’ll just a little tired and out of sorts from travel and worry, and in a sucky mood. It’s Groundhog Day without the coffee.
Ah, lift up, right? Sure. Just pry open my mouth and drown me in black coffee.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, ‘cetera. Coffee? God, yes. Here’s the tune. Enjoy. Cheers
I wonder what it is about a day that things feel like they’ve come together, and the day seems wealthy with promise? This Thursday, June 2, 2022, is one of those days. Nothing extraordinary in its appearance. Sunshine crept in, gentle and friendly, at 5:37 AM — same as yesterday — and the air temp is 64 F. Though cloudy, with a chance of rain, we expect a high in the upper 70s to low 80s before sunset at 8:41 PM. The felines are loving it, happy with washing and slumbering in shaded spots in the yard. I’m cool with it, too.
The neurons continue their music games, inserting “Tempted” by Squeeze (1981) into the morning mental music stream, a song which was featured just two and a half years ago. I think it might be related to a dream. As I’ve been going through the morning, a dream segment was flash like sunshine on a wave, and then is gone. It is interesting that several songs that my neurons are loading are from the 1980s, n’est pas?
Stay positive, test negative, have a wonder-filled day, or at least a satisfying or successful one. Maybe you’ll hit the trifecta and enjoy all three. Coffee time. Cheers
Full sunshine, full leaves. Leafy trees square up shadows across the back lawn, ripe with weeds. Bees visit the slumping dandelions. Sunshine jumps into the open spaces.
It’s a lazy morning for me and the cats. Done eating, they wash up and chat up birds, twisting heads to regard a squirrel’s noisy trespassing, resuming their grooming after the squirrel takes his business away. I tend a cup of coffee, sneaking hot sips past my lips, waiting for the caffeine’s magic to jump into the blood and brain.
It’s Saturday, May 21, 2022. Had blood tests done yesterday, routine matters to see what’s what, mentioned because I was asked to sign my name and date a document. The neurons were instantly amused; how long has it been since I was asked to do these things that were once daily routines?
Sunrise was sprung on us at 5:44 AM, I’m told. I didn’t witness it, staying in bed at that point to wrestle dreams. Sunset will come around at 8:31 PM. We had a cool morning, 50 F when the cats and I went out back, but sunshine was rapidly warming it. The weather masters say that the high will be 73 F. I will do yardwork, I decide, regarding the bushes and trees.
Later, inside, awaiting the caffeine’s arrival, I surfed the net and hummed a song. For some reason, the neurons had dumped “New York State of Mind” (1976) by Billy Joel into the morning mental music stream. “Surprise,” they shouted, when I recognize the song. “But why?” I asked them. “Why that song?”
One volunteered, “It’s a slow, bluesy, sleepy song about routine moments and found-again places.”
“So?”
The neurons shrugged. “It just feels like the morning.”
Impeccable logic.
Stay positive, test negative. The caffeine is pulling into the station. Brain cells are climbing aboard. Here we go. Cheers
Neurons awoke me this morning with their BJ Thomas imitation of “Raindrops are falling on the roof.”
Yes, it’s Thursday, and it’s raining. Nada wrong with that; rain is needed here. Fingers crossed that it’ll mitigate the drought’s impact and the wildfire season. Yes, it’s a weird thing that we’re in a drought and it’s raining. It’s all about the water levels and earth’s moisture letels, I’m told.
Today is 4/28/2022. Sun drop will come at 8:07 PM. Clouds have won the day, smothering the sunshine with plush gray sheets. With the temperature now at 45 F, our high of 57 F isn’t far off. The sunrise, a thin mélange of gray light through the windows, was at 6:11 AM.
I’m in a funk today. It’s a regular thing. About every twenty-nine days I cycle into a dark place. I don’t stay there long, but I always need to be cognizant of when it’s come so I don’t act stupid, let angry emotions rule me, or walk away from things. Patience must be exercised as I wait to rise back out of it.
To help me, the neurons have dug up The Brothers Johnson playing “Get the Funk Out Ma Face” from 1976. I’m sure I learned this song from hearing it in the barracks when I was on an unaccompanied assignment to Clark AB in the Philippines. It’s stayed with me, a strong and defiant song.
Stay positive, test negative, and so on and so forth, as most of us have been trying to do. Coffee is now serenading my neurons, trying to lure me into the kitchen. I think it’s working. Have a better one.
Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 